


Bedtime Stories

by Loptr_Laufeyson



Category: Norse Mythology, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Childhood, Children's Stories, Sick!Loki, child!loki, child!thor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-23
Updated: 2013-02-23
Packaged: 2017-12-03 07:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/695901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loptr_Laufeyson/pseuds/Loptr_Laufeyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This originally came from a series of "asks" on Tumblr, hence why it seems clipped and short.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bedtime Stories

**Author's Note:**

> This originally came from a series of "asks" on Tumblr, hence why it seems clipped and short.

Did you know that technically the gods that you know aren’t really gods at all? We are a race of more advanced beings yes, but in the end the best term for us would be “aliens”. We have our own diseases and ailments, our own frailties, although they seem far lower in number than those afflictions for mortals on Midgard.

In Asgard, my mother, Odin’s consort, Frigga, was regarded as a wise and just queen. For hours she would sit and spin at her tapestries and would gaze into the whole of the universe. She could see the future, but she very rarely spoke about it because she knew nothing she did would change the outcomes.

In any case…When I was about 6 years old, I came down with a fever of sorts. I was restless. I would jump from being so hot to being so cold. I could barely move. When I was on fire my throat was swollen and I coughed for what seemed like forever. When I was freezing my body would curl into itself and I would scream with a voice I didn’t know I had.

At first, no one was aware of my state. The only reason anyone came was because Thor wanted to play a game. He sat beside me and screamed for the healers. I remember what he looked like; he was terrified. My mother came with them and after they fed me something horrendous and vile, she lifted me into her arms and held me. Everything hurt and then suddenly I was drifting; weightless and calm. Everything I touched felt cool and soft and comforting.

She rocked me for hours and told me stories. Some I remember and some are too faint to make out anymore. There was once a man who felt abandoned and alone. He felt betrayed and so he treated his mother and father and brother horribly, shouting at them, insulting them. It didn't matter to him how sad he made them. On the inside he was very good, but he had been tortured by something so dark and terrifying that the goodness had been swallowed up and he could no longer see himself as he was.

One day, without knowing how, he woke up in an immense and lonely place. He was sitting on one of the roots of very large tree from which more huge pillar-like trunks rose and intertwined up into the sky, appearing to support the entire world. He was all alone, but soon an enormous flock of ravens with beaks made of steel landed on the tree, and set about violently chipping away at it. He cried out, waving franticly, but to no avail.

The ravens continued their work until they were satisfied with the destruction they had wrought. The man sat back down again and wept, but through a magic mist came a beautiful woman with shining brilliant hair that sat beside him and took his hand. “Have you come to help us?” The man was puzzled so she explained. “This is the center of the Universe. These roots support the planets, and these roots keep the tree in place." “What can I do?” said the man in confusion.

“I am a destroyer, not a builder, and certainly not a protector. "Well, to help look after the roots, of course." “When the birds saw you they increased in number. They see that you are powerful and wish to peck these roots to the dust; to make everything come crashing down.” “Without this tree, nothing will exist. That cold darkness will swallow everything you love and hold dear.” “Up to now, you haven't done much to look after it, but now that you know, will you help me to preserve all this?"

“I don’t know how!” the man cried. “I am destruction and evil I am nobody’s savior!” He choked on his tears and fell to his knees. “I. Am. A. Monster.” She listened to all this with a gentle and knowing smile, and taking his hand in hers she led him around the tree, showing him all the subtle details of its intricate knots. “We believe that which we want to believe. You have already proven your inner want to protect this tree.

Look deeper at what you see and you will find that you are stronger and nobler than you first thought.” The man still didn't quite understand all this, but he began to look more closely at the roots and could see that each one was made of thousands and thousands of little threads, representing the best virtues: sincerity, generosity, love, family…Closely inspecting the ground beneath him, he could see that the enormous system of roots was made up of little moments in time that encompassed-spans of races and of their children—deeper and deeper he looked until he was overwhelmed. He sat and finally understood what the ravens were doing-they were carving out scenes of chaos and war over every beautiful memory or future outcome.  The man, filled with his own regrets, stayed there and looked after the roots and tree for many days.

He carried out his task joyfully, going without sleep to repel every attack. He carried on until he collapsed; completely spent. When he woke he was back in his bed at home, and he didn't know whether it had all been a dream. He welcomed his family and slowly remade his way into the world.

That’s all I remember. She told it with such detail. My mother is a wonder among women.

 


End file.
